When I really dwell upon the crucifixion of Jesus, it is difficult to process...because I become completely overwhelmed by the thought of His enduring pain. All my sin, heaped upon His body in such a bloody manner:
Flesh torn into and ripped open by whips,
thorns driven deep into His tender head,
hands and feet gruesomely driven into by iron spikes
a chest spear-punctured
Because I chose to sin, even in the tiniest of ways.
Because I could not follow the commands of God.
Because I needed a Savior.
I am simply overwhelmed.
I wanted to share with you, this dream I've had a few times over the past five or so years.
I am standing in the presence of Jesus. He is dressed in a white robe. We are just chatting about inconsequential things when I realize His hands are a bloody mess. They are gory, as I can see shreds of skin, intricate bone, sinewy inner parts. I am horrified, yet quizzical. Why does He have these wounds? He takes my hand, allows me to touch the pierced, gaping flesh, and then looks at me with a gentle, loving smile upon His face and says,
"That was for you."
It's then that I awaken. I'm always humbled to have this dream. I feel as though He visits me in dream as a gentle reminder to keep looking to Him, keep pointing others to Him.
That precious moment when He chose to die for me,
I am ever-grateful.
What are your thoughts on Good Friday?
